


In The Forest Of Stone

by Formegil



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Eriador, F/M, Gen, Journey, Love, Misty Mountains, Mountains, Nature, Other, Third Age, Wilderness, idyll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 17:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14623887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Formegil/pseuds/Formegil
Summary: Young Aragorn crosses over the Misty Mountains after one of his many journeys and ponders on his future on the way. An idyll in one chapter.





	In The Forest Of Stone

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set in about 2985 Third Age, that is, during Aragorn's wandering years after he had left Gondor for the East. Initially I wrote this in 2008, but this is the rewritten (and in my opinion better) version from 2011.

Aragorn woke up shortly before the sunrise. He had climbed almost to the top of a pass in the mountains the day before. It had been a long and weary day, rain falling in a thick curtain for most of the time, dark grey clouds hanging low in the sky. He would have waited until the weather cleared but didn't want to stop. The news he was carrying were of such importance that haste was needed. He had been far beyond the sea of Rhûn, gathering information about the doings of the Easterlings. They had almost ceased to fight among themselves and emissaries of Sauron were at work. They were trying to sway the lords of the East to return to the Dark Lord's service with promises of gifts and power. An uneasy alliance was being slowly forged between the warring tribes and little kingdoms. All Easterlings didn't trust Sauron yet, but soon enough the might of Mordor would have grown so much that the last shreds of hesitation would be blown away, by persuasion or by force.

Aragorn was relieved when he saw that the clouds had cleared. The morning would surely evolve into a nice, warm day of May. Aragorn smiled with expectation when he thought of the sun. He was drenched enough by now. Far below him in the east he saw the River flowing slowly and beyond it Mirkwood, as a black line in the horizon. The sun rose fiery above it, colouring Anduin red as blood. Here and there in the dark red there flashed a glint like a sudden sparkle, as the fingers of the sunlight playfully caressed the waves. A few clouds lazily sailed in the eastern sky, taking fantastic pink and orange forms as if they had escaped from a mad painter's canvas. Even the black Mirkwood looked less dreary in the growing light. Rather, the blackish-green wall of trees served as a stark contrast that made the rest of the cavalcade of colours even more vivid. Aragorn slowly stretched his limbs while admiring the sight. The going would be much faster than yesterday. He would get almost through the pass by nightfall, even if he did not particularly hurry. With a last glance at the Anduin he turned and strode up the slope.

In the growing light he saw mountains rising all around him, snow crowning their lofty peaks. The rays of the sun danced on them, glittering like thousands of diamonds. Aragorn's eyes were almost dazzled by the brightness. This day Arien seemed to be in an especially good mood. To shield his eyes from the excessive light Aragorn directed his gaze a little more downwards. There sombre mountain-sides gloomed dark grey or brown. Even in the glow of the sun they looked cold and forbidding. Not even the most joyful smile of Arien could smooth the frown on their brows. Aragorn strode on, breathing the fresh morning air with delight. The contrast of the colours was always impressive to him, no matter how many times he would journey in these mountains.

At midday he paused for lunch in a place where the path was very broad. Over it a little stream ran down the slope. Its sound was like a merry laughter and listening it Aragorn felt his worries lighten somewhat. After he had eaten he lit his pipe and began to puff strands of smoke contentedly. He gazed thoughtfully down to a green valley almost a thousand feet below him, an oasis of trees and green grass nestling among the bare cliffs. A golden haze was over it, giving it a dream-like loveliness. The firs and pines seemed to sleep under a soft blanket of light. The sight was like a glimpse of the first Day of the Sun, a vision of the long-past time when the world was young. It somehow reminded Aragorn of Lórien. His mind wandered to a green hill under mellyrn. Scent of elanor and nimphredil filled the air as he walked hand in hand with his beloved. Their eyes met, full of joy, and the stars shone softly on them. There they had plighted their troth.

Aragorn returned to reality. He was again under the sun, so far from Cerin Amroth both in leagues and years. He smiled, and sighed a single word:

“Arwen...”

Then he stood up and continued his journey. There were still many miles in store him.

Aragorn stopped again after a few hours' march. He knew he was only two leagues away from the end of the pass, but the mountains seemed as high as before. As he lowered his pack to ground he heard sharp, eerie cries from above. He looked upwards and saw two eagles circling high above the cliffs. He waved his hand to greet them and leaned against the side of mountain. Not a tree was seen anywhere, except a few stunted birches and bushes here and there.

Aragorn stood up and gazed at the majestic landscape before him. In this forest of stone all was bare and cold, but still he felt his heart leap as his eyes rested on the deep ravines, sheer cliffs and narrow paths. This place had a beauty that was cold and wild, even deadly, but it was all the more breathtaking for it. Everywhere around Aragorn the mountains raised their proud, defiant heads silvery with the ice and snow of three Ages. Only the Kings of the Birds could live on these trees of Aulë.

Kings... Aragorn knew well for what he was destined, and that someday he could sit on the throne of his forefathers. Just maybe, if something unforeseen would happen... But now, in the middle of this gigantic scenery he felt very small. After all, he was only a human. Kings would come and go, like leaves opening and then falling, but the mountains would stand here to the very End. They could not be tamed by any hand. Here no one was a ruler. Aragorn pondered at this while the sun began slowly to sink towards the west. He stirred from his thoughts and his mood brightened when he thought:

"Maybe I will be King someday, but not a king of wilderness. I will tame the wild woods and raise fields and villages in places where only wolves howled before. I will leave my mark on the world, and hopefully my people will thank me in years to come. Let the mountains reign themselves!"

He started to walk towards the end of the pass with a steady step and holding his head high. The day had now reached the border between afternoon and evening and the light came almost levelly. Aragorn blinked as he strode onwards, his face towards the fiery orb of the setting sun. But soon the sun touched the horizon and slowly started to sink below it.

Aragorn was now in the end of the pass and the land began to run downwards in a shallow slope. He leaned on the spear he was carrying and drew his lungs full of the wonderfully cool, fragrant evening air. Before him lay the long leagues of Eriador in the vanishing sunlight. All was quiet and peaceful as far as could be seen, the wooded hills bathing in the dark red and violet light that was gradually dimming into a deep blue. The flowers gently closed their leaves and fell asleep at Aragorn's feet as he looked at the sight before him with a kind of silent respect. At this moment of sublime peace, making any sound would have felt like a sacrilege. One by one, the bright stars lit on the sky as the earth below prepared for a light, sweet slumber of a spring night. It was only after some time that Aragorn started as if waking from a dream and walked down the slope into the velvet twilight spreading among the trees. He was now almost as fresh as in morning. For he knew that among the hills ahead there was a beautiful valley, where his Evenstar shone.


End file.
